


Unspoken

by theparanoidergosphere



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Lydia, Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparanoidergosphere/pseuds/theparanoidergosphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angsty drabble. Stiles insists on washing the blood from Lydia's face, and Lydia is taken aback by the color of Stiles' eyes. Set in 4x06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning out my own ear,” she spoke softly, sitting on his bathroom counter. Next to her, Stiles ran warm water over a washcloth in the sink.

After a moment, he shut off the tap, and took a step to the right to face her. He was right at her eye level, his cotton tee brushing against her bare knees. 

She’d never noticed before, how deep the brown of his eyes was. Other times, looking up at them from her small stature, they’d seemed almost caramel. But in the fluorescent light of this tiny bathroom, staring directly into them, they were darker, somehow. Like wood after rain. 

“Will you just let me do this, please?” His voice matched hers in tone: soft, gentle, unsure. 

She said nothing as he leant in, his tender hand guiding the damp cloth against her bare skin. His other hand rested on her opposing cheek, positioning her head.

Time passed just like that. She remained still, wondering if the heat she felt where his hands brushed against her skin showed through. 

“I’m just glad you aren’t deaf,” he breathed, reaching to swab at a spot behind her ear.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Yeah, well you might not have been. There is a lot we still don’t know about all of this. What if she’d broken an eardrum? She could have seriously hurt you.”

“But she didn’t,” Lydia affirmed, quietly.

“Yeah, well, if she had…” 

Lydia leant her face ever so slightly into Stiles’ cradling hand, her eyes closed.

Stiles froze. His hand was cemented to Lydia’s cheek. 

A second passed. 

His body told him to inhale, but he feared shattering the perfect silence of this moment. His eyes were glued to her dark lashes, the slight pink of her eyelids. The way her temple felt against his fingertips seeped in through his skin, right into his blood. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he allowed his thumb to brush back and forth against her cheek. 

Lydia’s eyes opened with a start. She sat back up straight, leant away from his touch.

“So,” she let out a short, high laugh. “How is my ear looking?”

“Perfect,” Stiles whispered. 

Lydia swallowed. 

“Great. We should get back to work, then.” 

She hopped off the counter and turned to the doorway. She halted then, just before the threshold, staring intently at the bare white of the bathroom door.

She turned, quickly, to face him.

“Thank you, for taking care of me.” It was short. Matter-of-fact. 

“Always,” he replied.


End file.
